


And on the Seventh Day

by To_Shiki



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Butt Plugs, Cock Cages, Cock Slapping, Come Inflation, Come Swallowing, Dom/sub, Dorian finally gets to orgasm, Large Cock, M/M, Massage, Multiple Orgasms, Praise Kink, Shaving, Small Penis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:42:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4927249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/To_Shiki/pseuds/To_Shiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Adjustments Were Made.  It's finally Dorian's day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And on the Seventh Day

**Author's Note:**

> There is a small bit about bathroom business but nothing too gross or graphic.

When the seventh day _finally_ arrives, the day where the Iron Bull removes Dorian’s sleeve so he may _finally_ orgasm, it starts out exactly like the previous six days.  The sun just a sliver on the horizon, birds annoyingly chirping, and the Iron Bull barely awake when he’s coming down Dorian’s throat.

Fumbling hands tangle in thick black hair to hold Dorian in place as his first climax of the day slowly spurts to an end.  The Bull smirks sleepily as excess seed trickles out of the corners of Dorian’s lips.  “First of the day’s always the biggest.”

Lovingly he wipes it all up and offer it to his mage as he pulls off the softened cock.  “Must be from not coming all night long.  Maybe we should just fall asleep with my cock up your ass, fuck you in our sleep, so you don’t get so messy first thing in the morning,” he muses.

Dorian just hums noncommittally as he licks up lingering traces of come from the Bull’s cock.

After he finishes he crawls slowly up the Bull’s body, belly distended by last night’s romp dragging along the Bull’s.  When he’s within kissing distance he carefully flops down, his poor restrained prick trapped between them.  The Iron Bull grips Dorian’s ass as they kiss their way through their good mornings.  Slowly the dawn breaks to brighten their room.

Dorian pulls away from the kiss with a gasp.  The Bull doesn’t bother to hide the malicious grin as he presses his fingers against the base of the plug, wiggling it around.  “You ass!” he manages to groan, slapping the Bull’s shoulder.

“Nope!  Your ass!”  The Bull grabs a double handful and jiggles said ass.  He kisses him again as he moans, hips weakly trying to thrust against his belly.  Each gasp and groan Dorian makes is rewarded with a kiss.

He torments Dorian a while more before stopping.  Both are breathing hard and worked up from the action.  The Bull rubs his hands soothingly up and down Dorian’s thighs.  As the room warms from the sun their bodies gradually cool down enough to begin their day.  The Bull doesn’t move until Dorian starts squirming in discomfort.

Without teasing the Iron Bull slowly pulls the butt plug free from Dorian’s ass, free hand holding cheek aside.  As soon as it’s out Dorian scrambles off the Bull and over to his chamber pot in the corner of the room.  It was specially designed for him once they’d stepped this far into their ‘something’.  With his small prick always curled down from the sleeve he has to kneel down, lip of the pot supporting him until the Bull lets him up.  ‘Like the ladies have to,’ the Bull had told him the first time he’d used it, stroking his cheek proudly.

His eyes prick with tears as he relieves himself.  He presses his hands against his lower belly to help speed up the process.

“Ah ah!” the Iron Bull sing-songs above him.  “You know better, Dorian.”  The warning in his tone is clear as day.

Not wanting to start the day with any sort of punishment Dorian quickly removes his hands.  Needing to do something with them while his insides slowly empty he raises them and rubs them along the Bull’s meaty thighs.  His lover graciously shuffles closer, putting his groin and slowly awakening arousal just above his head.  If he leans his head back just enough and stretches his neck just right…

The head of the Bull’s cock slips between his lips.  Dorian can’t help but moan as he kneads the Bull’s thighs harder.  As he lengthens more of his cock slides into Dorian’s mouth, bitterness of precome and lingering drops of piss from when he’d emptied his bladder earlier coating his tongue.

Dorian hooks his hands around the Bull’s knees, his way of signaling the Bull that he’s finished his relieving himself.  Balancing himself with both hands around Dorian’s head the Bull bends his knees and slides his cock all the way into that hot mouth, not pulling out until Dorian’s managed to entirely cover it in spit.

Once slicked he pulls up and away, wet cock slapping against his stomach, bending over to grab at the cloths and pitcher of water beside the chamber pot.  He gestures for Dorian to raise himself up just enough to clear the pot and stay.  Tilting the pitcher he pours water over the restrained prick, dabbing it dry with one of the towels.  Then he puts a hand to Dorian’s shoulder and pushes, directing him to hands and knees beneath him to get at his ass.  Again he holds one ass cheek aside as he washes down Dorian’s backside, wiping him clean of come, oil, and waste.

A slap to his ass and he’s free to go to his vanity table to ready for the day.  As he freshens up he hears the Iron Bull taking care of the pots.  As much as he loves the treatment he’s still going to talk to the Inquisitor about installing indoor plumbing.  He tells the Bull as much as he sees him approaching from behind in the mirror.

“Yeah?  Still going to be my good boy if he agrees to fund something so expensive?”  The Iron Bull rubs his hands over Dorian’s hips, cock still rock hard, waiting for his mage to finish applying kohl around his eyes.  “You still loose enough?” he asks before checking for himself.

Taking the vial of oil sitting on the vanity he pours a little onto two fingers.  He slides one over the puffy red hole, testing its give.  One finger is sucked in easily when he breaches the ring.  The second one meets only a hint of resistance.  He scissors his fingers as Dorian forcibly steadies his hand enough to line the other eye.

“Of course, you sav-ah-ge!”  Thankfully by the time the Bull really starts really thrusting into his ass he’s already pulled the kohl stick away from his eye.  “Just-just think you whooon’t have to fetch all thoooose oh! buckets of water for our baths.”  Both hands knuckle white on the back edge of the vanity as his lover adds a third finger.  He spreads his legs wider, the metal of the sleeve knocking against the wood with each thrust.  “Ahh-ll ready have drains.  Just reverse them!”

The Iron Bull pulls his fingers out and slicks up his cock with a generous amount of oil.  Sliding all the way in he grunts in appreciation at how tight his mage always is for him.  “You know you enjoy watching me flex.  Carrying all those heavy buckets of steaming water.  Don’t even try to deny it.”

Dorian tries to do just that, if only to goad him into fucking him faster, rougher.  But the Bull has him fully bent over the vanity, lower abs digging into the sharp edge and face pressed against the glass, and driving all the air from his lungs with each thrust.  All he can do is hiss out “yeeesssssss.”

Pacing himself the Bull let’s go of one hip and pulls Dorian against his chest by the hair.  “Stay there.”  They groan in unison at the new angle.  Reaching over to the top drawer he yanks it out and drops it in front of the panting ‘vint.  “Go ahead, babe.  Pick out today’s accessory for your pretty ass.”

In the drawer is an assortment of butt plugs.  Ranging from medium to extra-large, for when they invite another to their fun, and plain to haughtily encrusted with jewels and beads for extra pleasure.  Since today was Dorian’s day he picks up one the length of his palm and the girth of his lover’s cock.  The base plain gold with a single topaz set in the center.  Ridges and beading all along the shaft will be sure to keep him on edge throughout the day.

The Iron Bull wasn’t the only one who enjoyed sexually tormenting Dorian.

He holds the plug up for the Bull’s inspection.  The Bull approves, like he would deny Dorian any choice he made, and takes his hand.  He slows his thrusts as he traces the flared head of the plug over Dorian’s parted lips.  Keeping the plug in Dorian’s hand he pushes it into his mouth, forcing his mouth wide as he fucks his mouth and ass at the same time.

By the time the bell tolls seven times the Bull is filling his lover for the second time.  Hand in a vise like grip around his mage’s waist the Bull waits until every last drop is milked by Dorian’s tight ass before pulling the butt plug out of Dorian’s mouth.  Gently he pushes Dorian back down onto the vanity.

A slap to his thigh and Dorian’s clenching down on the soft cock as it’s pulled out.  It’s quickly replaced by the plug, beads and ridges gliding against his insides making him squirm.  He’s stilled by a smack to his ass.  His breath fogs up the mirror as the Bull wipes down his ass of come and oil with a wet towel.

Even though he hears the Iron Bull walk away he doesn’t move.  Face against the mirror, mouth wide as he slows his breathing down, ass out with legs to spread to show off his plug.  The Bull was kind enough to avoid hitting his prostate, working only towards his own orgasm, so there was only the lingering desire always burning in his belly.  It’s not until his limbs start shaking from holding his position that the Bull comes back to him and allows him back up.

Calloused hands rub up and down his body soothingly.  He’s turned around and looks up into the Bull’s single eye, enjoying the contentment he sees there.  They kiss softly as the Bull’s hands slide down his shoulders to waist.  They break the kiss as the Bull kneels down to slide his hands along muscular thighs and calves.  He’s right at eye level with Dorian’s trapped cock.  He gives it a kiss before standing, laughing quietly at Dorian’s whine.

“Not yet, Kadan.  Tonight.”  The Iron Bull cups Dorian’s dick and balls with one hand.  “So perfect for me.  I know you can hold out just a little longer.”  He kisses Dorian as he slaps hard at the sleeve and balls, swallowing his cry.  “Hold out until tonight.  Now go get ready for the day.”

They dress in near silence, only broken by Dorian’s gasps and moans when the Bull “helps” him into his leggings and robes.  Part of that help was fucking his ass once more against the wall.  Belts are tightened just enough that whenever he sits Dorian will be reminded of all the come shifting around in his ass.

One final fuck, Dorian on his knees before the mighty Bull swallowing him down.  When the Bull finishes he stays kneeling until the Bull offers a hand up.  They kiss goodbye against the door, the Bull rubbing his hands all over his mage’s body. 

Breaking apart they exit the Iron Bull’s rooms and head in separate directions.  The Bull has training and meetings with the advisors about an upcoming mission.  Dorian has piles of research waiting for him and young mages to train.

As they walk away Dorian traces his lips with a finger, pleased to feel how cock and kiss swollen they are.

~*~

The downside, everyone quickly realized, to having defeated Corypheus is that the world went back to normal.  And after saving the world that translated to _boring_.  The days were filled with the same tasks with very little variation to heat the blood.  Very few missions away from Skyhold.  No real attempts at political upheaval or assassinations.  Not with a large Qunari as the savior of Thedas backed by an even larger Qunari and the inner Circle.

Very dull.

On the other hand the perk to having defeated Corypheus meant that there was a sort of routine that everyone fell into.

Cullen and Cassandra kept the troops busy training and running fake missions.  Solas stayed to keep painting and yelling at Dorian when he threw books.  Sera bugged then kidnapped the Inquisitor when she’d hold judgement for too long.  Varric…

Varric should be squirreled away somewhere working on his latest novel not approaching the Iron Bull where he and his Chargers were engaged in their own melee training.

Everyone in Skyhold know that today, the seventh day of the week, neither the Iron Bull nor Dorian were to be disturbed from their routines.  It had taken only a month’s time of being walked in on in compromising positions for it to stick. 

Only if the world was ending (again) were they to be pulled away from their chambers.  And that was only once the world ended, a solution had been found and ready to be implemented.

Dorian squints against the midday sun.  The bell tolls half past eleven.  Another half hour and the Bull was to be all his for the rest of the day.  Turning his gaze back down to the courtyard he frowns as he sees the two men in deep conversation, brows furrowed and thoughtful.

The Iron Bull has a hand on his chin, nodding at whatever the dwarf has to say.  He replies back, a sly grin near splitting his face.  The dwarf, most likely asking for details again, visibly shudders and walks away.

Dorian harrumphs, pleased as he watches the Bull head back to his boys to continue training.  Either he heard or just knew he was being watched the Iron Bull raises his head to look at Dorian.  He gives an exaggerated wink and softens the grin to a content smile.

Unable to help himself the mage smiles back before heading back to his alcove.  He has some work still to do before sequestering himself away for the rest of the day.  As he’s shelving the books a thought has him freezing in his tracks, book falling from suddenly nerveless fingers.

Varric’s the one who supplies them with most of their bedroom supplies.  As payback for supplying him with such high grade materials for his novels.  From finding the ball gags that leave Dorian’s jaw aching for days to the very sleeve and ring around his prick and balls.  What if they were talking about something new to add to their collection?

He’s hard as a rock in his sleeve and clenching down so hard on the butt plug it’s painful.  Just thinking about what it could be – new ropes, a swing that the Bull’s been hinting at getting, to new lingerie or a sleeve in a different size – has Dorian afraid he’ll ruin everything by somehow coming in his sleeve right here.  Panting he grabs onto the shelves for balance, willing his body under control with thoughts of Mother Giselle doing-

Nope, that far alone quiets his body enough that he can escape, if walking somewhat awkwardly, back to their chambers earlier than needed.  Knowing how thoughtful the Bull is the tub should already be filled with water, just waiting on Dorian to come and heat it.

He dutifully ignores the lewd hooting coming from Sera and Blackwall’s corner as he ascends the stairs.

~*~

It’s just past midday but their shared quarters are bathed in shadows, lit only by the numerous candles scattered about, thick drapes blocking out the bright summer sun.  A fire crackles pleasantly in the hearth as a fire rune on the side of the tub keeps the bathwater deliciously hot.  Bubbles scented with jasmine hide his body from any peeping eyes.

Across the tub lays a wooden tray.  On it is all the utensils Dorian needs.  First is the removal lotion and small towels, a dab here and some serious wiping has all his chipped and thinning nail polish gone.  Clipped and file-clean to ensure no rough edges and even length.  A buffering stone smooths them out all over.

He’s just applying the first coat of coal black polish when he hears their door open in the adjacent room.  “You’re late,” he grouses, almost smudging his pinky nail as he listens to the Bull disrobe behind him.  As soon as the Bull places a kiss on top of his head Dorian slouches down just enough in the water for his feet to stick out and rest on the rim of the tub.

He wiggles them impatiently as the Bull takes his time walking to the opposite end.

There beside the tub is a low stool, several towels, and two buckets - one with warm soapy water and a rough washing rag and the other with warm clean water – all set up by Dorian after he’d had his own wash down before settling into the tub.

The Iron Bull grabs a towel as he lowers himself down onto the stool.  He takes one of Dorian’s feet in hand and kisses the arch, pausing to breathe deep, before toweling it dry.  He repeats the action with the other asking, “Your footsies won’t get too cold now, will they?”

“Bah!”  Dorian kicks out with his trapped foot, careful not to upset his tray.  “Not with those monstrous hands on them they won’t.”  Finishing his left hand he holds it up to the low light.  Turning his hand he shows it to the Bull, waiting for his approval before switching hands.

Knowing Dorian’s steady enough to paint with either hand the Bull takes to massaging the soles of his feet.  Each groan of pleasure causes his cock to twitch against his thigh in interest.  ‘After we’re done with the bath,’ he mentally reprimands himself. 

Once his right hand’s painted and passes the Bull’s inspection Dorian slides the tray close enough for the Bull to pull it closer to his end.  Toenails are clipped and buffed while Dorian lets his arms hang over the rim of the tub to let his nails dry before a second coating.  Instead of blowing the dust off like a normal person the Bull takes perverse delight in licking and sucking them clean, making sure to drive Dorian to shaking in the tub as he towels them dry.

Tossing the used towel onto the floor the Bull turns his attention to the varied choices of polish.  Of all the colors to choose from the choice is obvious.  Picking up the half empty bottle of dawnstone pink he gets to work.

Dorian was surprised when the giant Qunari first offered to paint his nails for him.  Expecting them to come out all smudged and splotchy and still say how good of a job he did, he could only look at the perfect coating in shock.  The Iron Bull had merely shrugged it off, pleased, saying, “It’s just like putting on vitaar.”

Each nail is lovingly covered in a thin layer of polish.  When each nail is covered the Bull pushes the tray back so Dorian can apply a second coating.  The Bull lightly blows on the polish, quickening the drying time.  As he waits for Dorian to finish he rubs his hands along his lower calves, feeling the prickle of regrown leg hair.  Knowing what comes after nails has the Bull hard in a heartbeat.

Dorian looks up when he hears the Bull rumble low in his chest.  That single eye staring at his legs so intently has him clearing his throat.  When the Bull looks at him Dorian looks back down to his hand and purposely slows the stroke of the small brush.

“Kadan,” the Bull growls in warning.  His hands tighten their grip on his ankles.

“Today’s my day, remember, Amatus?” he replies arrogantly, a smile tugging at his lips.  Finally finished he pushes the tray back to his lover.  The stool’s high enough and the Bull tall enough Dorian can see the tip of his thick cock smearing precome all over his soft belly as he applies a second coat.  He can’t help but lick his lips.

Toes painted and the tray’s cleared from the tub.  The Iron Bull stands and goes to the side of the tub.  Dorian reaches up and is lifted from the water to be carried over to the fireplace.  There he’s gently laid down upon the thick bearskin rug warmed by the fire.  He wiggles around to get comfortable while supplies are brought over.

The Iron Bull stops by his head, giving him the best view of his assets.  “Where shall I start, baby?  Head or toes?  Or tail?” he leers down at him.  He cups his balls suggestively and waggles an eyebrow. 

Dorian, mindful of his drying nails, smacks the ankle closest to him.  “Toes, you savage.”

“You know that’s twice now you’ve called me that.”  The Bull kneels down on the rug and sets up.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea considering what I’m going to have in hand soon.”

Soft towels are placed as close to the fire as safe to warm.  A bowl full of lather and brush between Dorian’s spread legs.  Razor blade sharpened as Dorian lays back. 

Setting the strap and blade aside the Bull takes up the left leg.  He froths up the lather a bit more before applying a layer along the strong calf.  The scent of mint has Dorian relaxing into the furs as the Bull puts the brush back into the bowl.  After months of this treatment he doesn’t even flinch when the cool blade of the razor glides down his leg.

Warm air hits his smooth skin and he sighs.  Arms limp by his head and fingers curled he lets the quiet settle around him.  All he can hear is the crackle of the fire, his heart beating, his lover breathing slow and steady, and the scrape of the blade along his skin. 

He breathes deep, lets it out slowly.  Breathes deep-

Hands on his hips startle him out of his fugue.  Blearily he opens his eyes to see the Bull at his waist.  Rubbing his legs along the fur he shudders at how smooth they are.  “Perfect,” he mumbles loud enough to be heard over the fire.

The Bull kisses him softly, asking to be let in.  Dorian opens with barely a thought.  He spreads his legs a little more, barely feeling the burn of the stretch he’s so relaxed, so the Bull could settle between them.

But the Bull pulls away.  “Stay here for a little while,” he tells his mage.  He kisses him again when Dorian whines.  “Stay.  Going around your naughty bits and don’t want to startle you out and get either of us hurt.”  Another kiss for a reward when Dorian hums his agreement.

Settling back on his knees the Bull pulls Dorian up so his hips are on his thighs.  Legs spread further to accommodate the Bull’s bulk has Dorian moaning as his muscles burn.  Try as he might the sensation of the brush slathering up his groin has him half-hard in his sleeve.

The Bull takes his sleeve in hand, the warmth of it making Dorian sigh.  Tugging this way and that on his trapped prick the Bull uses a smaller razor to remove all his hair around his groin and lower belly.  Warmed towel quickly wipes away any remaining loose hairs and cream.

Grabbing his legs the Bull pushes them towards Dorian’s head, bending him nearly in two.  Obediently Dorian grabs his legs behind the knees and holds himself open.  The position leaves him completely exposed to the Iron Bull’s hungry gaze.  The topaz set in the base of the plug glints up at him where it’s nestled in his ass. 

With steady hands the Bull lathers him up.  If he ‘accidentally’ bumps the plug and has Dorian whimpering breathlessly, well that’s why he wanted him in the here and now.  Steady hands shave off the ass hair that generations of breeding couldn’t rid Dorian of. 

Not that the Iron Bull minded body hair.  He couldn’t care either way.  But Dorian disliked it, enjoyed the feeling of smooth skin rubbing against silky sheets.  He just was never flexible enough to get rid of it himself.  Then along came the Iron Bull and his doming.

And who was the Bull to deny him anything?

Finishing, he contorts himself enough to kiss Dorian’s hairless balls, slurping them both into his mouth.  He doesn’t let go of them until Dorian’s shaking and he’s got precome dripping out to smear on the Bull’s cheek.

“Shh, shh,” the Bulls quiets him as he helps Dorian lower his legs back to the furs.  Hurrying things along the Bull efficiently shaves chest, armpits.  Flips him over to get at the sparse back hairs.  A soothing aftershave lotion is applied, one specially made by the mage to help retard hair growth.

Knowing it takes a few minutes to be dry the Bull keeps rubbing his hands along his lover’s supple body.  He goes willingly when Dorian reaches out for him.  But instead of a kiss he looks up at him through his lashes and coyly whispers, “Oh the Iron Bull.  I’m so _thirsty._ ”

“Oh you are, are you?”  The Bull shuffles up his body on his knees.  Bending Dorian’s upper body he takes his cock in hand and lets only the head slip past lush lips.  “We can’t have that.”  He keeps the thrusts shallow, jerking himself off as Dorian suckles like a babe at a tit.

By the time the lotion’s dry the Bull’s flooding Dorian’s mouth with his come.  “Swallow it all down,” he grunts.  He keeps fisting his cock, milking every last drop for his lover.  “Only way to quench that thirst of yours.” 

Like the good boy he is Dorian swallows every last drop.  He kisses the tip of the Bull’s cock in thanks for sating his thirst.  Lotion set and belly full the Bull picks him up and places him back in the tub to soak while he cleans himself off.

Instead of sitting on the stool the Bull stands, washing himself down teasingly while Dorian watches.  Knowing that they’re so close the mage has no problem reaching under the suds to fondle his sleeve and balls.  They don’t take their eyes from each other as the Bull makes a show of soaping up his hardening cock.

“Soon, baby,” the Bull reassures him as Dorian whimpers enticingly.  “Soon as we’re dried off and I’ve got you oiled down, keep that gorgeous skin of yours nice and soft, gonna fuck you into the mattress.”  He pauses just long enough to raise the clean water over his head and rinse himself off.  Flexing his arms he leans down and picks Dorian out of the tub and goes to their bed.

He drops Dorian onto the bed, both chuckling as he bounces from the force.  The Bull grabs a handful of the blanket in each hand.  Dorian looks from his hands to face, confused.  As soon as it hits him the Bull proceeds to fluff dry the poor mage trapped on his bed, making sure his hair’s left a damp mess.

Panting on the bed Dorian wiggles enticingly.  “Oil now?” 

The blanket’s released with a flourish in agreement.  The Bull grabs the vial of oil from their bedside drawer and climbs on to the foot of the bed.  Kneeling at his feet the Bull slicks up his hands and begins.  He only pauses in his work long enough to apply more when necessary.

Each foot has thumbs digging into the arch, knuckles rolling from heel along the side to the ball, toes pinched and pulled.  A relieved sigh escapes when a big toe cracks loudly.  Hands shift up the ankles t the tense calf muscles, causing toes to curl.  Thumbs pressing hard into thick thigh muscles, holding in place until Dorian releases a pleased sigh.

Kneading lightly at the full belly he moves up the chest, flicking at golden rings.  Up the neck, massaging with just enough pressure at the throat for breath to catch.  Over temples and onto the scalp, fingers combing curly hair.  Blunt claws scratch lightly, causing Dorian to emit a content hum.

Down each arm, kneading and rubbing, pinching and pulling each finger.  Back up the arms wiggling them to keep the blood flowing.  To the shoulders to gently roll him onto his stomach.

Down the neck to rock hard shoulders.  Here he has to employ the use of his elbow, digging sharply into the knots right over the blades.  Heels of palms along the spine, pressing down with each exhale to crack the spine back in place.

Bypassing ass back to thighs and calves.  He doesn’t go back up until Dorian starts whining low in his throat, half from desire knowing the massage is almost over and half from the pain he knows is coming.

Strong oiled fingers _dig_ into the glutes.  Blankets in a death grip as the Bull massages deep.  “This wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t sit so much,” the Bull admonishes gently, shifting to a lighter touch.

“Tried.  Lost feeling in my legs,” Dorian mumbles back.  “Ass’s going to be black and blue for different reasons tomorrow,” he giggles, endorphins flooding his body as the Bull finishes up.

“Yes you are,” comes the agreement, the Bull kisses a sore cheek.  Sitting up he swaps out the vial for a small pillow.  Peppering Dorian’s perfect backside with kisses he lifts his hips up enough to slide the pillow under them.

Ass in the air the Iron Bull parts his cheeks hungrily.  He can see and feel Dorian tensing in anticipation.  “Can’t wait ‘til I get that itty bitty cock of yours in my mouth, Dorian.”  He moves his hand up to pull out the plug.

Dorian only whimpers at the loss, far enough into the training to not ty to hide himself away like he had in the beginning.

Seven whole days, and collectively near half a year, of wearing butt plugs from the larger end of his collection has left his asshole gaping wide.  The muscles try to clench down instinctively, despite Dorian’s wishes, to close him away from inspection but fail.  The Iron Bull can easily see into his ass.  Easily see all the come he’d deposited after they had met between duties so Dorian could use the chamber pot again.

The large Qunari settles himself as comfortable as possible and gets to work.  He sticks his longer tongue deep into Dorian’s ass, licking up all his seed sloppily.  Hands hold his cheeks apart as he’s grunting and huffing his enjoyment of Dorian’s ass.  Neither notice how low the candles burn as the Bull spends nearly an hour cleaning him out.

Dorian’s a shaking, sobbing wreck by the time he meets the Bull’s satisfaction.  Precome’s staining the sheets below him and tears soaking into the pillowcase.  Asshole slick with the Bull’s spit and near permanently stretched out lets the Bull slide right in.

“Oooh yeah, baby.  Need you to tighten up a bit.” 

The words don’t make it through the thrum of pleasure going throughout his body.  The slap to his left thigh does.  An echo of the Bull’s command sends a jolt down his spine, ass clenching down on the thick cock properly.

“Good boy, Dorian.  Good boy.”  The Bull keeps up his praise as he fucks his mage.  His spit making his cock just slick enough that it borders on catching along his inner walls.  The added friction has Dorian grasping the blanket with white knuckles.

Breathe growing harsher, the Bull’s heavier balls slapping punishingly against Dorians smaller ones, hearts beating in their ears, Dorian’s keening increasing in pitch.  Sharp smack against the right thigh and Dorian’s heating up, pulling the Bull’s orgasm from him shy of gut wrenchingly painful.

With an echoing loud growl he fills Dorian up.  Lifting his hips up off the pillow so his stomach can have the space it needs to expand.  Dorian’s keening turns to breathy moans as his stomach goes back to its distended curve again.  Someday he’s going to talk the Bull into filling him up until his skin’s marred by stretch marks.  Show them off to his father if they ever meet again.

The Bull sighs as he pulls out.  Soft cock dripping come over Dorian’s ass as he reaches over for the plug.  He pushes it in, wincing as Dorian cries out weakly from overstimulation.  “It’s okay, Kadan.  I’m sorry.  You’re doing so well.”  He licks him clean in silent apology.

The Iron Bull gently pats his balls twice, Dorian taking his cue shifts onto his back with the Bull’s assistance.  The pillow stays under him, keeping his pelvis elevated.  He lays there waiting, arms flung out and legs easily cradling the Iron Bull’s head and shoulders.  Hands twist in the blanket as the Bull playfully noses at his balls.

“Alright, Dorian.  It’s been a whole week!  Time to take it off!” 

The Iron Bull holds his breath as Dorian reaches down with one hand to the gold bar connecting the sleeve to the cock ring.  Finger top glows for a split second as he mutters the spell under his breath.  A small _pop!_ and the sleeve jerks away, easily pulled off by the Bull.

Reverently he places it in Dorian’s waiting hand.  He blows hot air against the newly exposed flesh.  A shudder runs through them both as Dorian’s small dick fills, curving up proudly towards his belly.  The Bull traces a sharp claw along the swirling grooves left behind from the sleeve and grins as Dorian thrusts up into the air.

“Oh, do get _on with it_ , Amatus.”  Dorian grabs his lover’s hand and tugs like a petulant child.

Taking the hint he does.  And it has Dorian’s cry of pleasure echoing off the walls and out the windows.  Faintly they can hear several of their friends cheering down below.

The Iron Bull takes his time.  Dorian’s small enough, barely the length of his palm and could easily encircle him with thumb and pinky, that he can just lay there sucking on the hard flesh.  His tongue traces all the swirls, pressing hard at the sensitive spots at the head and base.  His hands go to the back of his thighs and push them up, exposing him just that much more.

Dorian comes down his throat without warning, breath catching in his throat.  The Iron Bull swallows every drop happily.  He lets the softening dick slip from his mouth, holding it lightly in his hand as Dorian breathes through his first orgasm of the week.

“How was that?” he asks with a grin.

Dorian has fine tremors running through him.  Weakly he reaches down and pats the Bull between his horns.  “I think,” he licks his lips.  “I think you just sucked my brains out through my cock.”

“Through your what?”  The Iron Bull makes a tight fist around Dorian’s spent member.

“Ah!  My-my puh-prick!  My little prick!”

“That’s right,” the Bull rumbles.  “It all came right out of your itty bitty prick here.”  He gives it a couple of jerks as Dorian struggles to harden again so soon. 

Toes curl as the Bull takes him back in his mouth, hand going to his balls and fondling them.  He keens loudly, knees bending as he gradually hardens.  Fists pressing onto his eyes he tries to pump his hips only to have them forced down with hand to his hip.  Pinching and pulling, the Bull pushes him over the edge in minutes.

This time the Bull let’s some dribble out his mouth onto smooth skin.  He slowly licks it up, enjoying dragging his tongue along quivering thighs.  Trying out a new tactic he moves up to Dorian’s belly, just round enough to look like he’d overindulged at a banquet.  Nipping and sucking kisses onto the taut skin there he silently congratulates himself as he feels Dorian getting hard again.

Above him Dorian’s a sobbing mess.  His breath hitching, body shaking, and prick standing at attention.

“Only come twice so far.  That all you got, Kadan?”  He playfully slaps Dorian’s prick.

“Ah! Ah!  Please!” is all Dorian can manage in answer.

Maneuvering himself up onto his elbows for a better angle, the Iron Bull starts smacking in earnest.  Making sure to get the tightening balls as well, he increases the force behind the slaps.  He counts to twelve before Dorian’s spurting all over his belly.

“Hmm, looks like you’re running out, baby.”  The Bull dutifully licks him clean, biting lightly at the edge of his bellybutton.  Think you can handle one more to empty you out for the week?”

Dorian can only sob out a pitiful ‘yes’. 

The Iron Bull takes him back in his mouth, pulling one final orgasm from his very being.  He sucks him dry, not swallowing.  Dorian’s prick falls from his mouth, swirling patterns from the sleeve only faintly visible now.  Using one finger the Bull hooks it in Dorian’s mouth and forces it open gently.  Keeping his mouth an inch away he opens up and lets what little Dorian had left drip out of his mouth.

Gratefully Dorian takes what the Bull gives him, not swallowing down his own bitter seed until he is given permission.  While he recovers the Bull plays with his flaccid prick, grabbing some tweezers from the bedside table to pluck out the missed hairs quickly.  Oil replaces tweezers, coating him generously before the sleeve slides back on.

The Iron Bull has to physically pick up Dorian’s hand and place it on the sleeve.  “Alright, Dorian.  Kadan.  Time to put it back on, baby.”

Dorian coughs to clear his throat before he’s able to utter the words to seal the sleeve and ring back together.

“Good boy, Dorian.”

The Iron Bull’s voice is filled with such love, such praise, that Dorian can’t help crying softly as his body tries in vain to react.  His lover is quick to respond.

“I’m sorry, Dorian.  Shh shh!”  He holds him close as he shakes through the overstimulation.  “Shh, you’re okay.  I didn’t mean to excite you again so soon.”

They fall asleep that way; the Iron Bull on his side, head at an odd angle to better calm his lover, and Dorian shaking his way to passing out from the pent up pleasure finally getting released.

~*~

When morning comes both jerk awake at the thump of something heavy landing outside their door.  Too sore to get up, Dorian grumpily kicks the laughing Qunari out of bed.  Without a care of his nakedness the Bull goes to the door and opens it.

There, sitting all innocent, is a long brown package with Dorian’s name elegantly scrawled on top.  The Bull bends slowly at the waist to pick it up.  He doesn’t stand until he can hear breathing from the bed speed up.  His own cock is bouncing against his stomach when he straightens from knowledge of what’s inside.

If Varric was able to deliver.

The door’s shut and locked behind him.  Holding the package in both hands he makes his way back to their bed.  Dorian holds the blanket up for him, scooching forward so the Bull could sit behind him.  Surrounded by the larger man he makes gimme hands until he finally relinquishes his hold on the package.

It’s rather large in his grasp.  Nearly as long as his forearm and thick.  Heavy, too.  With barely a thought he burns away the twine holding the paper in place before ripping in to it.  Underneath is a simple thin box, lid sliding off with ease.  What’s inside has Dorian’s breath hitching and the Iron Bull’s hands gripping strongly at his hips.

Knowing it was from Varric he knew it was going to be some sort of sexual item.  Knowing that he’s never disappointed with what the Bull gifts him didn’t prepare him for what he holds.

Inside the box, laying on soft linens was a Qunari-sized dildo.  From personal experience Dorian could tell it was bigger than the one he takes on a daily basis.  The thought of having the Iron Bull force him open on it had his blood heating, legs involuntarily spreading in anticipation.

Next to his ear the Bull chuckles.  “Now you get to have a _real_ cock like me.  Keep looking.”

Confused he does so.

Picking it up proves it has a pleasant weight to it.  Flexible like a real cock and warming quickly to his touch.  He takes the head in hand, bringing it up to his mouth to suck on it.  The Bull’s groaning in his ear, hot breath urging him on.  It takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize he’s able to actually _suck_.

Pulling it out of his mouth he looks at it, blunt head dangerously close to his eye.  A bruising kiss is being sucked onto his neck as he sees.  There’s a slit on the head with a channel running the length of it.  Quickly flipping it to the base he gasps in a mix of delight and arousal. 

“Look at that, Dorian,” the Bull breathes.  “It’s just big enough to fit your itty bitty prick.”  He fondles Dorian excitedly.  “There’s some new leather in there, all nice and soft for your perfect skin, to hook it up to.”

Dorian’s breathing hard at the thought.  It would be a tight squeeze, all part of the pleasure, but that hole would make it so he could come and-

“Next time your sleeve comes off I want you to fuck me, fill me up like the good boy you are.”  The hand around his sleeve squeezes as Dorian nearly ruins it by coming right there with his sleeve on and three weeks looming in the distance if he did.

 


End file.
